Chapter 128: Nightmare. (14)
Translator: RaidenTL
Chapter 128: Nightmare. (14)
Regret was always a miserable emotion.
Could I have done better? Was there another way?
These are hypotheses that lose all meaning the moment they are conceived. Reason always tells me it’s better to worry about the future rather than past possibilities, but my heart refused to follow suit.
Or rather, perhaps it’s more accurate to say that while I’ve tried to live my life pretending to be fine until now, this time feels impossible.
In a life filled with failures, the only thing I ever truly wanted—the one thing I held onto in a life where I had lost so much—had completely crumbled. It wasn’t easy to control my emotions like I usually did.
I never intended to hurt him, but because I did, I couldn’t stop wondering if there could have been a different future.
The worst part was that if I asked anyone else about this, they’d likely say, “It’s just a friend giving up on a dream,” or “It’s not like you did anything wrong.”
But that wasn’t the answer I wanted to hear.
Perhaps because of my depression, dark thoughts kept swirling in my head.
I texted him and called him, but there was no response.
Even while moving mechanically and silently doing my work, I would check her novel, wondering if maybe, just maybe, she had uploaded a new chapter today.
The final chapter.
I don’t know how many times I re-read that familiar scene where Lilac ends the story with a scream.
Was I the only one still waiting for the next chapter of a novel that still only had three views?
Probably. It was, after all, a truly boring story.
To me, it was an irreplaceable, precious piece of writing, but to anyone else, it was just one of many failed works scattered across the internet.
I lived my life in a daze like that.
Humans are creatures of habit; I eventually grew used to him not being in contact and the novel no longer being updated.
…I lived on, getting banned from comment sections after getting into flame wars because I was sick of novels with overly violent protagonists, only to feel a sense of self-loathing for taking my frustrations out on others.
Then, by pure chance.
When I ran into you on the street.
When I ran like a madman to catch you as you tried to run away.
I shouldn’t have done that.
“…Hey. How’ve you been?”
“Oh, yeah. Well. I’ve been fine.”
A cheap pocha might seem like an inappropriate place for such a conversation at first glance, but it was actually perfect.
The drunken customers around us didn’t care about our story, and the loud music had a strange magic that allowed us to bring up heavy topics.
Add to that a few rounds of alcohol-infused “Courage Potions,” and the preparations for the talk were complete.
“Are you not going to write anymore?”
However, the Courage Potion known as soju had a “Confusion” side effect, and the words slipped out wrong.
The guy, who had been mid-sip, ended up spraying soju directly onto my face.
“…Sorry.”
“No, I’m the one who’s sorry.”
“…No, I don’t just mean spraying the drink. I’m sorry for avoiding you. I’m sorry for crying because of my inferiority complex. And I’m sorry for acting all high and mighty with your money.”
He was smiling as he said that.
It was incredibly unpleasant and irritating.
I would have preferred it if he had gotten angry like before, or stubbornly insisted he could still do it, or screamed that he would write something even better.
That lukewarm smile—neither cheerful nor angry—made it look like he had given up on everything. It made me want to scream at him to wipe that expression off his face.
“Actually, I think that feeling was bigger than the sense of betrayal. I didn’t want to be pitied, especially not by you.”
“It wasn’t pity.”
“Yeah, I know that now. Knowing your personality, it was probably your way of cheering me on.”
No, it wasn’t just that.
“But still. Even so, you shouldn’t have done that. So, I’m done. Well, I already stopped the serialization, so there’s nothing left to quit. It’s already over.”
It’s over. You’re telling me that your dream, and my dream of seeing yours come true, are both finished.
This is lingering attachment.
It’s something even more viscous and unpleasant that follows regret.
“Can’t you try again?”
The words I couldn’t say that day.
“…What?”
“Again. It doesn’t have to be this work. Of course, I want to see The Academy’s Holy Sword Hero again, but if you really can’t do that one, can’t you try something else?”
“What are you talking about all of a sudden? You want me to write a ‘My Little Novel’ just for you or something?”
…In the worst-case scenario, even that would be fine, but even I knew that wasn’t the right answer.
“I’ll help you. I’ll keep cheering for you until you succeed. And I still have the money I saved up. I’ll keep supporting you. So you can focus only on writing. I’ll make sure you don’t have to care what other people say. So… let’s do this together.”
I should have said this sooner.
I shouldn’t have given up on my own, let go on my own, or set limits on my own while making excuses that it was for his happiness.
Instead of getting scared and running away, I should have at least clashed with him, even if it meant breaking.
For a brief moment, his face flushed and he looked surprised, but it was only for a second.
Soon, he laughed.
“Sorry.”
It was the face I hated.
“I can’t write anymore.”
If only I had said it back then, on the day his parents took him away, maybe I wouldn’t be regretting things this foolishly.
“I don’t even know what I wanted to write, and I don’t know how to write anymore, so how could I write anything?”
Don’t smile like that.
“And is that something you say to a friend? You sounded like you were confessing your love or something.”
It really was over.
— Go…
My head hurts.
“Anyway, let’s drink more. It’s been a while, and who knows when we’ll see each other again?”
In the end, we just foolishly drank until we were completely wasted and left the shop.
Looking back, my life was nothing but a series of losses.
And a life of nothing but regrets.
I didn’t think I was particularly stupid, but maybe I was just obsessed with acting “cool.”
When my mother’s hands were shaking, I should have clung to her, crying and begging her not to abandon me.
I should have begged the police to please find my parents.
When I first arrived at the orphanage, I shouldn’t have stubbornly insisted that I wasn’t an orphan.
On the day I first met you, I should have honestly told you that I would read your story.
The day before Cathy died, I should have held onto her a little more persistently, saying I didn’t want to say goodbye.
When the Director asked if I wanted to go to high school, I should have said that I actually did.
When I became an adult and started to have a little breathing room, I should have found something I wanted to do for myself instead of depending on you.
If I had, I wouldn’t have projected my own abandoned dreams onto you and forced you to carry them.
And it’s the same now.
Even though you were distancing yourself and apologizing, I should have supported you by your side, even if I had to force it.
Screeeeech—!!!!
An unpleasant noise grated against my ears.
A truck veering off course.
A blaring horn.
Flashing hazard lights and someone’s scream.
And you, who had tripped and fallen while stumbling drunk.
It was absurd—death rushing toward you as if mocking me once again.
Hey, this isn’t right.
“Shit.”
This really isn’t right.
“God fucking…!”
I ran.
I ran instinctively.
Even though I knew I couldn’t save you, even though there are no such things as miracles, even though I am an empty human being who has never managed to hold onto anything.
— On… ly… go…
It’s too far.
I can’t even take the hit for you.
I can’t reach.
A scream that sounded like a mix of a metallic rasp and an animal’s howl erupted from my throat.
The fact that I was losing something again made me wonder if I had committed some grave sin against God in a past life.
As an atheist, I turned into a believer in an instant.
Because if God doesn’t exist, then I’d have to accept that all this goddamn bullshit was just pure, random misfortune.
— Lord… of… Myriad…
If I think that everything that has happened to me so far was just a coincidence and not someone’s will, it’s just too unfair.
I’ve done enough. I didn’t even resent anyone. I didn’t even beg for anything to be returned.
I just thought, please don’t take away the last thing I have left. Is even that too much to ask?
Seconds before you died.
For the first time, I cursed the world.
I already knew all too well that praying until my hands were worn down wouldn’t make anything come true.
So, I cursed it.
And because I cursed so fervently.
— The Lord of Myriad Worlds proposes a deal to you.
The world stopped, and for the first time, something resembling a god appeared before me.
— I propose to give you a chance to save the Author.
A frozen world. You, about to be hit by a car and die.
There wasn’t even a choice to make.
— The world you two gave birth to is still at a standstill. If you are prepared to see that world to its end, express your affirmation.
“The world we gave birth to?”
— That is… no, explaining it like this is a bit tedious. Nice to meet you. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?
…I don’t have any transcendent acquaintances?
— You don’t recognize me? Aside from you, I was the only other reader left for that novel.
…To my surprise, something clicked.
The view count for the final chapter of the novel was exactly 3. One was him, one was me, and the last one, apparently, was God.
— Enter the world of The Academy’s Holy Sword Hero and see it to the end. If you do, I will save this guy right now. Oh, but I won’t save him if you just end it any old way. You have to show me a story that I can accept.
“I’ll do it.”
— Oh, how decisive. Can you really do it? I’d love to see the story move again, but you know very well what kind of world that novel is, don’t you?
“I said I’ll do it. Why does the ‘Lord of Myriad Worlds’ talk so much?”
— I like it. Immediately starting to act while considering what kind of character I might like. I like that. For broken guys like you, there are worlds much better suited than this boring one.
Acting. Maybe so. But my readiness to do anything to save him was sincere.
— I hope you like your new world. It is a world prepared just for you. Please, do your best. Ha-neul… no, I should call you ‘Kang So-hyun’ from now on, shouldn’t I?
My vision flips.
The guy who had fallen and was about to die was looking at me from a distance with a face full of despair.
And the unpleasant noise that had been grating on my ears sounded much closer now.
“No…!!!”
Wow, shit. A truck. I guess the day I actually experience this in my life has finally come.
I guess God wasn’t such a bad bastard that I needed to curse him after all.
Seeing as he showed me a miracle at the very end.
Thump.
Screech.
Thwack.
Splatter.
My body, bent at an impossible angle, slammed into several things, and my consciousness began to fade.
It was a bit of a shame that the last thing I saw was his crying face.
I would have rather seen him smiling one last time.
* * *
What the fuck.
“Aub.”
— Congratulations! You have successfully transmigrated into the world of the halted novel! If you don’t want to see your original body, which is barely clinging to life, die, then bring a conclusion to this world in any form.
Reward: Your survival, the Author’s salvation.
Failure Penalty: You die.
No, fine.
Everything is fine.
But why the fuck.
“Abuuu…!!!”
I transmigrated as a goddamn baby. What am I supposed to do like this?
— The character you have transmigrated into is Kang So-hyun. I thought it would be too hard if you transmigrated at the start of the prologue, so I put you in a past time period. Be grateful, human!
…He’s a character who dies.
Thank you so fucking much, you bastard.
…Ah, I remember now.
The flame war I had with this piece of shit at the end.
[Lord of Myriad Worlds: No, seriously, the protagonist is such a piece of shit.]
ㄴ [Daddy Long Legs: If you’re so unhappy, why don’t you write it yourself?]
ㄴ [Lord of Myriad Worlds: Even if you were the protagonist, it would be more interesting than this.]
ㄴ [Daddy Long Legs: Why are you talking shit to an author who’s working hard?]
ㄴ [Lord of Myriad Worlds: LOL, I guess if you work hard, it’s okay to write like shit.]
ㄴ [Daddy Long Legs: You’re gonna end up transmigrating into a novel, kid~ Take it easy.]
ㄴ [Lord of Myriad Worlds: Yeah, right. If anyone’s transmigrating, it’s you. Nice forced shield.]
I see. It wasn’t you, it was me who got transmigrated.
If I knew you were a god, I wouldn’t have said that, you crazy bastard.
So…
— No. Stop looking.
* * *
I was forced back to my senses by a heart-wrenching pain.
I was grateful to be pulled out before I was consumed by the synchronized memories, but honestly, I didn’t feel very pleasant.
“Hey, wait. I need to see more.”
The memories after he stopped the serialization were clearly parts I didn’t possess.
If I watched just a little more, I could find out the things I had forgotten.
However, the grip clutching my heart refused to allow me to see the rest of the memories, no matter how much I pleaded, and began to squeeze even harder.
No, it probably never intended to show me these memories in the first place.
It was just that it couldn’t block part of the memories that had leaked through the noise due to the Succubus Queen’s Authority.
But I have to see more.
Thanks to seeing those memories, I was finally starting to feel certain about what lay beyond the noise.
“…!?”
But my heart hurts too much.
“…Fine, if that’s how you’re going to play it.”
Then I have an idea too.
“Hey, then at least help me get out of here. You can do that, right?”
Perhaps thinking I had given up, the thing readily began to shatter the world. Since it had already absorbed most of the Succubus Queen’s Authority, the exit was quite smooth.
The Authority that had been surrounding me like a black egg shattered into pieces. The first thing I saw was Lilac wielding the Holy Sword, looking like he was about to become a “Mother-in-law Slayer.”
Not yet.
I had no intention of watching Lilac become a mother-in-law slayer, and I couldn’t let the person who was supposed to be my sleep therapist die just yet.